A Strange Order
by Shreklover6969
Summary: Ciel orders Sebastian to do something odd. Will he fulfill his masters orders?
1. Chapter 1

**So this is boyxboy! Don't hate me and flame okay ;-;**

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"Young master-"

"That was an order, Sebastian. Retrieve the Death Note."

"But it may-"

"I don't care!" The young master yelled, slamming his small hand on his desk. I bowed in front of him.

"Very well my lord, I shall retrieve the Death Note."

My journey began in busy city in Japan. I easily spotted my target, the trail of potato chips and apples led me directly to him. His laugh could be heard from miles away and it disgusted me. I followed him home from school.

 _You look insane talking to something others can't see..._

Of course I could see the shinigami floating behind the Death Note's carrier. It's different than the shinigami the young master knows. Though Both this shinigami and the shinigami the young master are gods of death, this type of shinigami exists to take life, not view the film of life. They live longer by taking life whereas the shinigami like Grell are immortal. The Death Note's carrier went in what I assumed to be his house.

 _That foolish child didn't lock the door... This makes my job easier._

I quietly entered, the shinigami looked back and grinned at me.

"Light..." He tapped the boy's shoulder, "You have company." My eyes flashed red.

 _How dare he give me away?_

"Huh? Where?" The Death Note's carrier looked every but where I stood.

"Right behind you..." I spoke in a low voice. He jumped a little and turned to face me.

"H-Hello... I don't believe we have met..." He took a potato chip and ate it nervously.

"Sorry for barging in!" My voice brightened and I extended a hand, "My name is Sebastian Michaelis, I come here on my master's wishes."

"Sebastian... My name is Light Yagami." He shook my hand while eyeing me suspiciously, "I should write that down so I don't forget it!"

"Don't bother, a mere Death Note can't kill a demon."

"Death Note?" He laughed nervously.

"Yes, I have learned one is in your possession. It would make my job much easier if you could just hand-"

"HAHAHA? ARE YOU IMPLYING I'M KIRA?"

"You can't fool a demon." I purred.

"Uh... Shouldn't you not say you are a demon-" The shinigami started.

"Don't question my ways."

"But-"

"Shut the hell up you egg with sausages for arms and legs."

"FINE!" The shinigami shrieked, tears flying freely down his face. The creature floated out of the room.

 _My Job just got much easier, thank you out of character shinigami!_

Just as I checked my watch to make sure I had enough time before my young master's dinner, an odd human in a bath tub fell through the ceiling. I barely could see the white haired boy in with all of the butter surround him in that tub!

"NO EXPLANATION JUST BUTTER!" He shrieked and begun to float away.

"WHY ARE YOU HERE I DON'T EVEN KNOW YOU YET!" Light shrieked, slipping on a stray stick of butter. He slid, falling face first onto my shoes. I kicked his face off immediately of course, His face might ruin the brand new shoes my young master has allowed me purchase.

"My name is Paula Dear." The young boy said as if he was much older than his body looked. He seemed to be trying to disguise his voice as something you would expect your grandfather to sound like. I promptly threw him out the window as he screamed something about "L wanted me to watch him!"

 _I know L... What a pesky little man he is..._

"Can you please go with him?" Light whined, "My mom is going to be here-"

"Shhh~!" I murmured, unbuttoning my shirt.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!"

"My young master wants that Death Note... Perhaps you could just lend me it?" My shirt was now discarded on the ground. Light's eyes gazed over my chest. A faint blush spread across his face.

"I c-can't do t-that!" The Justin Bieber lookalike stuttered as he backed away.

"Yes... You can. Tell me, what do you want me to do right now?" I huskily whispered in his ear, pinning him against the wall.

"For you to get the off of me. Also for you to get dressed." Light pushed me off, "Nobody wants to see your nasty ass chest."

"Okay, Fuck you." I hissed throwing him across the room, " I was going to be nice and fix your ceiling fan but now that is out of the question. Good day to you." He didn't respond so I picked up the Death Note and left.

 _The things my young master makes me do..._

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	2. Chapter 2: Slam Dunk Shitbirds

After Light declined my offer to fix his ceiling fan and/or have sex with him, I grabbed the death note and left. Luckily, he was still in shock (between that and the butter incident, he probably thought he was hallucinating) so he didn't even notice me take it.

I opened the door to the Phantomhive Manor, notebook in hand, when I slipped on a stick of butter.

When I pushed myself back onto my feet, I saw no other than Near/Paula Deen/Paula Dear staring at me, with his big head looking like it was about to roll off into a bowling alley and score a strike.

"What the hell?" I asked. Paula Dear simply ignored me, chomping down on another stick of butter.

"Do you think I'd let you take the notebook that easily? How do I know you're not going to become the next Kira?" Paula Dear asked. He pulled a small tub of butter out of his pocket, dipped his butter stick in it, and licked the butter off the other butter.

"Get out of my way before I slam dunk you like a basketball." I snarled.

"Yeah? You and what basketball hoop?" Paula Dear responded,

hovering menacingly above my head.

"That one."

I pointed up to a basketball hoop, which had appeared above us at some point. I dribbled the little shitbird and did a one-handed shot, because I'm simply one hell of a basketball player. He hit the floor like a plastic bag full of soggy toilet paper.

"CHRIST ON A BIKE, WHAT THE HECK WAS THAT FOR?" Paula Dear screamed.

I ignored him, turning to walk up the stairs, when something hit me from behind. Paula Dear had hovered his butt over into my back, knocking me off balance. I slid through a puddle of butter, crashing face-first against the wall.

"See, I knew you would try to shoot me like a basketball, so I knew exactly where I would land and be able to kick you into that butter. THAT WAS MY PLAN ALL ALONG!" He cackled, removing an assortment of rubber finger puppets from his armpits. He began using the holes in the bottom to scoop up the melted butter, and he set the puppets in a perfectly straight line.

"But did you plan on THIS?" I asked, kicking over the line, spilling butter all over the floor. He screeched like a monkey on cocaine, flailing his arms out to his sides. He scooped them up on one arm motion and dumped them all into his underpants.

"I'LL HAVE YOU KNOW, I SPENT EXACTLY $20.54 ON MATERIALS TO MAKE THESE. I HAD TO MAKE THESE, BY HAND, BECAUSE WHERE ELSE AM I SUPPOSED TO FIND POORLY MADE FINGER PUPPETS OF L?"

"That's nice. I'll go take some laxatives to see if I can actually give a crap."

I walked up the stairs, the notebook still in my arms.


End file.
